


loud love

by juicyjunhui



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Clubbing, Come Eating, Corruption, Dom/sub, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oral Sex, Power Play, References to Depression, Roommates, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, plot heavy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:48:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25637569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juicyjunhui/pseuds/juicyjunhui
Summary: Yeosang glues himself together with whatever he can find, hoping to be rid of the void he feels inside him even for a little while. Seonghwa finds him in a mess one morning, and now, things seems to be changing.
Relationships: Kang Yeosang/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	loud love

**Author's Note:**

> TW // this talks a lot about drug usage and dependency, including details about a drug trip. there is also sex under the influence. please keep these in mind before reading or turn away now. 
> 
> anyways i wanna say thank u to my best friend, loml, angel, sun in my sky, for this au as it's basically the child of the au we have spoken extensively about in dms <3

Seonghwa dragged himself to the club - Yeosang forced him when he looks at it, not even asking him nor giving him a reason, Seonghwa was just met with Yeosang approaching him with a glint in his eyes speaking out a curt “you’re coming to the club with me tonight, we’ll start drinking here from 8pm then move on, yeah?”. _Yeah._

Seonghwa had “gone out” with Yeosang before, by which he means bumped into him at a party off his head and his soul barely gripping the cavity that was his body – another night Seonghwa had to dig his heels in before the kite known as Yeosang whipped away in the wind. Seonghwa found it a night of pure fun when he finally approached him, that was, until it was too much. Tonight, though, should be an experience; the pair of roommates had been getting slowly closer and Seonghwa was most definitely crushing, even if Yeosang was always snapping at him. Despite earlier mishaps, they would be together all night and he trusted Yeosang to be safe especially with him about.

The club was in the centre of town, not too far from their dorms but long enough when both men were borderline paralytic. Yeosang thought it would be best to throw in Seonghwa at the deep end. He firmly believed it would be no fun if he drank to the brink of liver failure and Seonghwa was painfully sober or even just tipsy, so he ensured they did _too many_ shots before they left. They both had a skip in their step as they joined the queue arm in arm, he could already tell Seonghwa was having a time, giggling to himself as he only _slightly_ stumbled, finding himself beaming right back.

The bouncer asked for ID’s, grunting a deep “Nice to see you here _again,_ Yeosang!” accompanied by a pleasant eye roll. Seonghwa chose to miss that part.

Bass brushes through the air and infiltrates their bodies, the immediate heat of too many bodies packed tightly on the dance floor hitting them and already causing a sheen on the pair. Seonghwa gasped as he heard the vibrancy of the music thumping from giant speakers that were just everywhere, his eyes sparkling as if Yeosang just handed him a bucket of serotonin: and Yeosang will, if he gets hold of his inside plug soon. They hadn’t even got their first drink from the bar yet, not that they needed it, but just seeing Seonghwa look so smiley and giggly as he vaguely moved his hips to the rhythm made a feeling bubble up inside Yeosang, something so reminiscent yet unfamiliar; he was awaiting the night to unfold with a smile, _maybe tonight will actually be a good one._

Without further ado, Seonghwa stumbled towards the bar, exclaiming “I think… we need more drinks Sangie!” over the heavy music as he grabbed the other’s wrist.

The nickname made his bubbling gut warm and fuzzy; it was cute seeing Seonghwa so optimistic and innocent like this. Yeosang thought that maybe he would corrupt him by the end of the night, unsure if he should be proud of that or not. “If I’m Sangie, then what should your nickname be?”.

Seonghwa stopped in the middle of the crowd he was trying to weave through, turning round abruptly and squaring Yeosang in the eye with a cheeky grin on his face, the kind that bares just a _little_ bit of teeth, “You should call me babe.” Liquid confidence really was true, Seonghwa felt proud of himself for being so bold as he spun round and walked further into the club, eventually leaning over the counter of the bar to order some more bombs.

Yeosang eventually caught up with him at the bar after he needed a moment to centre his vision after being so startled at Seonghwa’s sudden change of personality, but he would be a hypocrite would he not? He always came home drunk and drugged up, Seonghwa probably felt the same when he actually saw Yeosang sober. It was this thought that was tempting the floodgates of his broken soul to spill, the ones that would lead him to a shitty night, for all involved, but he quickly dismissed it as he noticed Seonghwa shoving two drinks in his face. He picked them up and downed them straight away, barely even wincing, compared to Seonghwa who finished them with a scowl.

Seonghwa noticed shortly after finishing his drinks that his vision was becoming very much estranged, blurry around the edges, his skin was starting to shed too, feeling free of the inhibitions he had coiled himself up within. Maybe now was the time to shoot his shot, and it made him laugh as his legs swayed side to side on the spot. The night may be just starting but just being by Yeosang’s side was so thrilling he just couldn’t help but keep smiling like a lovesick toddler (he didn’t want to admit to himself that that’s how he felt, too). He attempted rather pitifully to count the amount of shots he had tonight, stopping when he got to 15 vodkas.

“Yeosang! The bouncer on the door told me you were here, with someone new for a change too,” there was a much taller man leaning in Yeosang’s ear with a small smile, so they could hear eachother he supposed, but it knocked Seonghwa’s whole vibe off, enough to steady himself but through his ever greatening intoxication he swiftly decided to join in the conversation – he grabbed Yeosang’s arm and hung off it, leaning into his neck ever so slightly, earning a warning look from Yeosang.

“Yeah, this,” Yeosang pats Seonghwa’s head the best he can, “is Seonghwa. Do you think you could hook both of us up tonight? I was about to text you, maybe something a bit more colourful tonight, please, Yunho.”

“Meet me in the upstairs smoking shelter in about half hour and I’ll have exactly what you’re looking for, waiting for Mingi to get through security with the gear…” Yunho disappeared into the darkness before their eyes.

That’s just what Yeosang wanted to hear – his night was truly beginning to unravel.

“Seonghwa, would you like to dance?”

Both made a beeline to the nearest empty space in the pit of the club.

Bass was really thumping, and neither could feel their own heartbeat anymore because of it. Strobe lights hit Yeosang’s makeup just right, Seonghwa couldn’t take his eyes off how beautiful the highlight just melted into his skin. The breakdown of the song was fast approaching and Seonghwa started to bounce on his toes, not caring, and watching Yeosang do the same and mouthing the words. Of course, Yeosang knew every song that was being played and it really made Seonghwa wonder how often he goes out, but nonetheless it was still cute seeing Yeosang so _into_ something unlike the usual apathy he gets out of his daily _sober_ activities; he noticed Yeosang bounce closer and closer to him, sweat dripping down his jaw with every bounce.

Seonghwa was so entranced with the Yeosang he saw before him – smiling and enjoying being alive without the burden of existing a harsh reality upon his shoulders. As he scanned the other up and down, he felt a pang in his heart. Yeosang deserved to be like this without alcohol, or whatever else he did, and Seonghwa wanted nothing more than to gift it to him on a silver platter.

But his mind became more and more cloudy, and then all he could notice was the sequin bralette Yeosang boasted on his chest underneath a fishnet crop top that dipped just beautifully off his collarbones… Yeosang was indeed a beautiful soul, and his body was suddenly looking like a temple Seonghwa just had to pray to. Without caring, or much thought, he shuffles closer to him, slinging an arm around his waist.

Yeosang was really getting into the music now, however his frequent drinking meant the alcohol was slowly wearing off and he was getting impatient – if he hadn’t come with Seonghwa, he would have done a few lines or taken some pills hours ago. He could see Seonghwa move closer to him with some sort of glint in his eyes he hadn’t seen before, feeling his hand wrap around his waist with such certainty. It put Yeosang on edge, the action threatening to sober him up completely, luckily he remembered this is just Park Seonghwa, a man who was too _nice_ and _caring_ for his own good. Seonghwa would never hurt him like the others, so Yeosang allowed it momentarily – Seonghwa was the hottest man he’s ever seen, so this would do, Yeosang didn’t mind if it was in small doses. He sees Seonghwa energised and become bold and he thinks it wouldn’t hurt to indulge him after all the early morning comedowns he’s nursed for his sake.

It was then he felt his phone vibrate in the back pocket of his jeans, and he knew exactly what was about to happen, and all he could do was giggle and bounce on the spot under Seonghwa’s unfocused gaze.

“Hey,” Yeosang gets a little too close to Seonghwa’s face to shout over the music, and if Seonghwa wasn’t already flushed from sweat, he would have definitely blushed then, “Let’s get a few more drinks? Then you’re coming to the smoking shelter with me for a present!” Seonghwa barely could comprehend words other than “drinks”, whether that was his own drunkenness or Yeosang’s.

The pair down four more shots each, and Yeosang’s buys a pack of cigarettes behind the bar for good luck. As they march upstairs, again arm in arm trying to steady themselves and not fall down, Yeosang waves Yunho and Mingi over.

“Good night?” Yunho grunts out. Yeosang just nods as he tries to spark his cigarette, inhaling and exhaling like he’s smoking pure gold. Seonghwa just smiles and giggles here and there, not caring about this unknown habit of Yeosang’s (arguably a gentler one from all the other things his body endures), already guessing what the two standing in front of him are to Yeosang.

Yeosang offers the pair his box of cigarettes, and Seonghwa’s eyes slowly widen as they slip several multicoloured tabs inside… was some of those for him? The idea of tripping with Yeosang made his stomach flip and him to giggle behind his hand to himself, earning a sideye from everyone around him of course. He has only ever touched alcohol, and that already was usually in small doses until tonight… would this be too much? He would never admit it openly, but hearing the few good stories Yeosang had told him back in their room did make him ever so slightly intrigued. _You don’t even know if he wants to do this now or even with you, Seonghwa._

Yeosang can tell Seonghwa wants to say something, so without thinking, places the cigarettes between his lips, watching the other take a drag as if it’s nothing – that’s alcohol for you, he supposed.

“Thank you my dearest, remember to enjoy yourselves too, don’t work too hard!” Yeosang waves Yunho and Mingi off between newfound hiccups as they begin to camouflage themselves into blackness once more.

“You know, Sangie,” Seonghwa fiddles with the cig between his fingers rather awkwardly, his words becoming noticeably more slurred, “Cigarettes aren’t too bad! Makes my head rush a little bit though…” Seonghwa leans against the wall and attempts another drag. Yeosang just laughs at the state he’s becoming. “Maybe it’s because I’ve never smoked before? Maybe. I haven’t done a lot you know, I’ve only…” He stops and breathes for a little bit, shaking his head in an attempt to gather some sort of order in his mind, “drank alcohol! I like parties and sometimes clubs but I never drink a lot, you know that don’t you? I like to think I have fun without it, but tonight is something else.”

Yeosang closes the gap between their bodies just enough to make Seonghwa straighten out, taking a pull from the cig that still lays between Seonghwa’s fingers – maybe he was out of his mind, too, but Seonghwa was so cute like this; a mess of a man who little by little throughout the night, is breaking his own caring and stringent boundaries. Perhaps if Yeosang put his mind to it, he could be the one to break him. He matches Seonghwa’s gaze and exhales, collecting his thoughts to speak before he can entertain them but Seonghwa interjects.

“I don’t know if it’s the alcohol giving me a good time or if it’s you Sangie!”

“You don’t mean that, it’s probably just the alcohol.”.

Seonghwa dares to bring the closer, once again putting his hand on Yeosang’s waist, giggling all the while, and he feels his heart pound at the thought of Yeosang putting himself down even in such an inhibited state and at how much he wants to just lift him up on the pedestal he deserves.

Yeosang just backs away, adjusting the straps of his bralette, stubbing the cigarette against the wall, “Let’s go to the toilet and really liven things up, shall we?”.

The toilet is a lot quieter than the smoking shelter and the dance floor of course, bustling bodies of all genders roaming in and out, the lights comfortably more dim and definitely more static. Seonghwa widens his eyes as he notices a few people step out of cubicles with powder around their nose which is red raw, their jaws swinging freely, or pupils blown – he supposes each reaction symbolises their pick of poison. He stops in front of the mirrors, looking at himself up and down, realising how _drunk_ he really is. He’s shiny across the cheeks, his eyeliner smudged a tad, hair sticking out a little at the sides from all that dancing he did not 20 minutes ago. At least his black skinny jeans and cropped button up was still intact, his multiple chains sitting around his neck as if he just placed them there. Seonghwa felt the opposite to his clothes, however, his vision was blurring around the edges and his focus was unbecoming of him, he couldn’t stop giggling at any occurrence, and the thought of Yeosang just being with him as he slowly descends to madness just made the crush he had on him _worse._

As he stops looking at himself, he sees Yeosang gesture him to the cubicle he claimed through the mirrors, and Seonghwa happily joined him, skipping in and closing the door behind him. He tries his best to read the sign behind the toilet on the wall through squinted eyes to really focus on it, gulping in response as he finds the words unjumble to “ _anyone found using or dealing drugs will be banned for life. Multiple people in a cubicle will be dispersed if found.”._

“Do you trust me?” Yeosang fiddles with his cigarette packet, taking out the paper tabs that were in it. He’s ready to start bouncing the walls, if he’s correct, Yunho got him LSD and on pretty paper too – this was going to be pure excitement, and with Seonghwa by his side he’s sure he’ll be entertained too.

“Of course, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

“I’m about to give you something, you don’t have to do it, but it would be really, _really¸_ fun if you did.” Seonghwa nods like an eager puppy. “Now, be a good boy,” he gasps at Yeosang’s words, “and open your mouth and let yourself finally be free…”

So he does just that as per Yeosang’s instructions, the other placing two tabs on his tongue. He’s pleasantly surprised to find it’s tasteless as it dissolves, watching Yeosang do the same. They square each other in the eye, both erupting with laughter.

Seonghwa thought he should be nervous, that he would be in for a bad trip, but if there’s anything clear roaming in his head it’s that, with Yeosang, he feels invincible no matter what. Deep inside him, there’s nothing to worry about. He’s sure Yeosang knows what he’s doing by now (despite the countless times Seonghwa has had to coax him out of an utter state from too many drugs). This will be fine, even if his tolerance is through the floor and he’s unsure what to expect – he’s heard of LSD, he knows about tripping and what comes with it, roughly, thanks to psychedelic Tik-Tokers making an appearance quite frequently on his For You page; maybe they are mining data after all, sensing Yeosang’s company through his phone.

Before either of them can comprehend their own movement, they find themselves in the middle of the dance floor, somehow with more drinks in their hands.

The lights embody them – strobes find themselves even more intense, fading into the atmosphere. They flash, making them look like a stop-motion picture as the pair swing their hips to the beat of the music, enjoying the freedom the air gives them for a second as they jump to the rhythm. It’s as if they’re flying for hours, time is just a concept and they didn’t care. Sounds were intense, Seonghwa swore aloud as he felt the music shake him to the core and expel through his pores once more.

Yeosang was happy the music was good, singing to the tunes without a care, allowing himself to be engulfed by a warmth. He opened his eyes to see Seonghwa everywhere and no where, the lights flashing around him giving him a halo.

Seonghwa was an angel. Yeosang was slowly discovering that if you allow Seonghwa some freedom, something to unleash him, that really, he had a devilish side. As colours and rainbows and holograms flashed across his eyes, shapes and patterns coming from nowhere, it almost shocked him how tantalisingly _hot_ Seonghwa was. He watched him unbutton his shirt some more to relieve some heat and just seeing the sweat roll down his chest, biting his lip in unison. _He must know what he’s doing._

Everything was becoming overwhelming but in the best way – Seonghwa slowly sipped on his drink and it felt acutely refreshing as the liquid ran down his throat, feeling each drip flood his stomach, his eyes couldn’t focus and were jittering around the dance floor, but once they landed on Yeosang they became fixed. Sequins projected lasers off them, causing Seonghwa’s point of view to shift to the cleavage on display, convinced the boob sparkle will burn his eyelashes off, looking up to see a gawping Yeosang panting rapidly as he threw his arms in the air, pupils blown. He truly was a sight to behold, and Seonghwa wanted to cherish it forever. He takes the dive despite his brain being empty, clashing their hips together, Yeosang wrapping his arms around him as if it was instinct. Was this love? Because it felt like it, the union sent bolts up Seonghwa’s body to every possible cell, a smile growing larger with every second he endured this electrocution.

Seonghwa notices the rainbows sprouting in his perspective, the arcs booming into the sky. He follows them, wide eyed because he’s never seen colours like this before and finally discovers the gold at the end of the rainbow. As he fixes his eyes on the gold, the rainbows suddenly disperse into something kaleidoscopic, shattering like pieces of glass until his vision is purely holographic, tightening his grip. His pot of gold is Yeosang, the blonde head of hair he wears so beautifully threatening to blind him along with the stupid grin he sports on his face.

Giggles echo around his head and there’s only one person he can identify it as – it sounds sky blue, the perfect colour to describe the man who is barely an inch away from him now. Nothing will beat this moment – pure euphoria coursed through Seonghwa’s veins until his blood cells were echoing “ _Yeosangie”._ Watching the other look so content and happy made Seonghwa’s mind slip further away from his body – he may have been crushing but now he was sure it was love.

From when they first moved in together, not talking initially, to now as they descend into another realm together. Yeosang was never in their shared room, and Seonghwa didn’t care because they’re university students, Yeosang could be doing anything. That was until a few weeks ago, when he heard an almighty _crash_ from their bathroom down the hall at stupid o’clock in the morning – he ventured into the wilderness, to find a Yeosang completely out of his mind with a bleeding nose sat on the floor. He refused the care Seonghwa had to offer, but he got it anyway. This became a regular thing; Yeosang coming home too high or drunk on god knows what at parties, and Seonghwa playing nurse and looking after him from dawn to dusk. Seonghwa tried reaching for conversation, he was immediately stunted by Yeosang’s blunt replies or general apathy once he had sobered up. Leading up to the moment they are in together, Seonghwa kept hounding the other – they sometimes had dinner together in their room, sometimes Seonghwa managed the other to actually study, but he still barely opened up.

All Seonghwa could see then was pain. Yeosang cracked when they had pizza on their beds, and Yeosang’s septum piercing just came tumbling out of his own nose all bloodied, an obvious sign he was snorting too much of something. It was then Seonghwa saw the pain he so skilfully hid away, vowing to do anything he could to ease his pain, because, above all else, the Yeosang he saw between the cracks of curt comebacks and apathy, was perfect. He was intelligent, soft-natured at heart, caring, curious and funny amongst a plethora of other qualities. When they did spend time together outside of morning clean ups, Seonghwa found him to be his own happy pill – he was attractive and attentive and it was just the instant boost being with Yeosang, of whom so casually hung the stars in the sky.

There was no sense of time, the thoughts of these times came flooding back and Seonghwa was reliving them in a mystical dream that played in greyscale temporarily. He wanted to share moments like this forever with Yeosang. He wanted to caress him and kiss the pain away, tell him it would all be _okay._

He didn’t care for the worst things he’s said, the last tear he shed, all he’s done in bed on Memorex, whatever goes in his head… He would help Yeosang overcome everything. He wanted to love him perfectly.

Seonghwa was in love.

Seonghwa was in love. _Holy shit._ Seonghwa was just so in love with Yeosang. This… awakening made colours blast back into his body and he couldn’t contain it anymore. The music was now playing from inside his ears, a deep house melody sounding out and causing him to erupt in laughter and smiles, because well, he was with his love. Love was magical – love was rainbows and sparkling chimes and shades of pink.

Yeosang needed to know how much he was loved.

Yeosang was freely dancing and obviously exploring his mind and the music, and the grip Seonghwa had around his waist wrenched up (he just about noted how heavy his hand suddenly was) and placed it almost too delicately on Yeosang’s cheek, bringing his other hand to match it. Seonghwa looked deep into his eyes, smiling knowing he had the whole world in his hands in this moment, noting how lovely and vivid the caramel and mocha colours ebbed and flowed in his irises.

He dipped.

He let his lips linger on Yeosang’s so wholly, so full of happiness and empathy. The taste of lip tint was sweet and so fitting of Yeosang – it tasted of yellow strawberries and he just couldn’t get enough. As he closed his eyes and placed himself flush to the other, sweeping blocks of neon flowers flooded his vision. This was love.

Yeosang went limp in Seonghwa’s arms, something he could only describe as a sweet honey replaced any blood in his body, what was this? He could only feel pure ecstasy as he melted into it, feeling a sweat break out even more, the flashing lights of the club creating a blinking white background behind Seonghwa. This… felt right, okay.

He kissed back in an instant, feeling overwhelming lust start to kick in. He parted his lips and poked his tongue inside Seonghwa’s mouth, taking charge straight away since he doubts Seonghwa was experienced enough. It turned wet and colourful immediately. Yeosang had never been addicted to drugs from the first try (or so he says), but this sensation was different and he craved more until his lungs gave way from lack of air.

An absence on his lips was replaced with a dark, husky voice that appeared bouncy around the edges, melting into his eardrums and flooding his brain, the words in a plethora of colours and bold text cascading behind his eyelids, “I’ve been waiting for that.”

Now, Yeosang was sure he was beginning to peak because those words must have been a hallucination, the Seonghwa before him couldn’t be real by any means – but just to make sure he kisses him again. Upon contact, his lips numb in such a gnarly way he’s sure they’re glued together. It feels so surreal and Yeosang starts projecting, seeing this _real_ scenario happen from outside his body. Sneaking a hand to the back pocket of the other, pulling him impossibly closer, hearing a slight squelch as he realises they’re both drooling and messy and it’s running down their chin. Yeosang doesn’t care because this is all he wants, confirming the thought as he opens his eyes to find everything in the room liquifying into warped blobs of beings and strobe lights except for Seonghwa because he’s perfect.

_Fuck._

It’s then he stumbles back and realises what’s happening, an immense gasp leaving the place that just made his tummy flutter. He thinks he needs to go, following the hallway to the bathroom, finding it awfully full of doors, each thumping out a different vibration and music genre, and gardens and potted plants of bizarre textures until he finds a stairwell, spiralling in both directions but somehow still stationary. He’s walking up (or maybe down) and a human-figured spotlight is following his every move. Yeosang’s sure he’s going to vomit, somehow in a good way – having had Seonghwa just on him, he tries to prepare himself for the scratch of foil wrappers to spew out his throat as he knows the other just filled him with candy.

 _Finally_ he makes it into a cubicle and the spotlight joins him for company, standing solemnly in the corner of the cubicle muttering something Yeosang can’t make out because all he hears is a loop of Gypsy Woman by Crystal Waters that was playing however long ago in the pit of the dancefloor from all corners of his mind.

But that’s before his mind springs far out of his body. Yeosang now finds himself in a marshmallow dreamland, like a tourist, full of pastels and warped images of his thoughts in motion. The first one is framed with screws and nails sticking out of it, razor blades trimmed around it; harsh metal that he scrapes his fingers on, yelping as he finds his hands to be cut and bleeding ever so slightly – it’s been almost two years since this picture was taken and he didn’t expect it to hurt him. Wooyoung, his past partner, is moving within the frame, one he cannot unsee as he knows it’s a slice of the sheer abuse he used to give him on the daily, until he was just a shell of a man with nothing to fear, for he was left with no concept of emotions or what love should be. He cries blood for all he’s worth, wanting to move on as his shoulders shake solemnly, watching crimson pour from his eyeballs.

The next frame is a stark contrast to the velvet walls that are painted a light pink – it’s neon red and made of glass, cracked and shattered but still somehow in place and beautiful, the small fragments daring to tarnish the bouncy floors. Yeosang doesn’t touch it for that exact reason. Too scared it will fall under too much pressure. His eyes flicker to the centre of the frame noticing it’s him looking back at himself. It’s his first time at a rave, stuck in a K-hole as his jaw swings from side to side and he’s hopeless, he can see the dullness in his eyes. He remembers it well, it was shortly after Wooyoung called the shots, and he was left alone and frightened of life, hoping to gain some sense of… feeling through ketamine, to blissfully numb him of the pain, and cocaine, to boost his mood so he was ready to party and pull someone to fill the void. Hating yourself is a heavy burden – Yeosang couldn’t even look at himself in the mirror properly as he applied that night’s makeup, poking and prodding at his every physical aspect, replaying all his mannerisms in his head to “iron out” any imperfections that may displease the people around him. It didn’t matter in the end; the drugs did their job so why should he care about anything else?

Before he can process it all, the frame vanishes and the next picture crops up – this one without a frame, the picture hanging there freely yet vulnerable as the edges fade into that light pink velvet. Once again, it’s him. He’s smiling with his newfound friends he picked up from raves that oh-so conveniently go to the same university as him. He smiles so bright as lights flash around him – he giggles a little remembering how that was the night San took so much MDMA he did the robot in the middle of the dance floor for 4 hours straight. Other than that, Yeosang remembers the dreariness of it all, being beyond sleepy for a majority of the night since the feeling of invincibility from the heroin wore off almost _too_ quickly, not forgetting the fact San injected it wrongly and his arm was in excruciating pain the whole night as a result. He just wanted to feel better about himself. He didn’t, instead just trying to woe the pain away. Who could ever love him again like this? 

Yeosang gasps as this moving image transitions into a different one, impressed at the gallery’s owner’s creativity.

Now, the setting is in his plain, old dorm room with it’s yellowing white walls from where he smokes too many cigarettes inside. Yeosang sees himself sitting there – alone, as he hadn’t a roommate yet, and he cries. He cried until he blacked out that night. No-one could fix him, who would dare touch a man like him, talk to him? Yeosang just grit his teeth, huffing out as he watched his past-self naturally reach into his bedside unit for some Xanax in hopes to feel better.

Yeosang doesn’t feel like watching the rest of that night play out. He’s too sick of feeling the consequences of his trauma and self-hatred, and so he runs out the gallery until he’s out of breath, running straight through the doorway at the end of the hall into…

“What the fuck is this?” He doesn’t know what to feel now. He’s in his dorm room again, watching Seonghwa nurse his bleeding nose and his banging head with a gleam in his eyes. He watches Seonghwa feed him pizza on Friday nights so he knows he’s fed before the night’s antics. Seonghwa tells him jokes or shows him memes on his phone. He talks to him like a human as he lays in bed at 6am when he finally comes home, just chit-chatting about this and that so he’s not alone with his thoughts. Seonghwa complimenting his outfit for the day with sparkling eyes and a genuine smile on his face, enabling Yeosang to not double glance in the mirror yet again. Seonghwa giving Yeosang a facial with his new moisturiser that came in the mail that day, even if he did refuse to comment how nice it felt. Seonghwa pulling him towards his desk because he knew Yeosang had an exam the next day and he said he wanted him to do well even if Yeosang said he didn’t care. Seonghwa pulling him into a cuddle when he was having a bad trip or to just “cheer him up” despite Yeosang automatically turning to stone upon the touch.

Every little scenario, he sees the dullness of his eyes slowly vanish and a smile come upon his face more and more. It happens in the present moment too – Yeosang doesn’t know what he would do without Seonghwa. _Maybe I would have done something stupid on a bad night if he wasn’t there._ Yeosang doesn’t know why he does it, honestly, and something about it makes him feel pure elation, something he hasn’t felt in what feels like centuries. He hated it at first, purely, because Yeosang wasn’t worthy of love nor was he used to that certain emotion anymore. He doesn’t want to be hurt again, and really, he has himself and his friends, why would he need love or emotions? Enough acid makes him feel. He always thought of himself as near repulsive in all ways possible, and his ex-proved that. Yeosang sincerely entertained the idea that being lethargic to _feeling_ is what’s best, allowing the void to swallow him whole until he eventually overdoes it one night.

However, Yeosang is too sick of feeling this way. He wants to feel butterflies spike into his soul, he wants to laugh in abundance until his voice cracks, he wants to hold hands until sweaty palms disconnect them. He wants to feel worthy of someone’s eye and time. But most of all, he wants to give it back. He would love to have someone who just makes him feel like himself again.

Steam piles out his ears and he realise, colours blasting everywhere, that the vision of his dorm room slowly melting away around him with a sharp hiss.

“Yeosangie?” _Was that Seonghwa?_

Seonghwa. Seonghwa…

It’s Seonghwa.

He’s in love with Seonghwa.

Seonghwa is the man who makes him feel something the drugs don’t: alive. Like he’s living. 

Yeosang had finally found his treasure, his holy deity. It was Seonghwa all along. He never wanted to express the warmth the other spilt onto him, often finding himself utterly confused over the feelings he deprived himself of, surpressing them until they blossomed out of his soul.

Seonghwa really brought Yeosang back, keeping the skeletons in his closet firmly at bay, and honestly, Yeosang hasn’t laughed and smiled like he does with Seonghwa in forever. He wants to give it back because he sincerely thinks Seonghwa deserves the world, even just thinking about the other grinning until his face hurts rains rainbows within Yeosang’s heart. Seonghwa didn’t need to nurse him all the time, he wanted to be there for Seonghwa, too, whether it was him stressing out over essays, or about a customer at work, or just to be in eachothers presence so tenderly and make him smile so wholly.

Yeosang’s conscious transfers itself to the present, where he finds himself stood in the middle of a cubicle that is burning his eyes by the sheer brightness of it as he finds himself looking an at angel sent from heaven to earth. Yeosang gasps as the light clears and he sees him – he’s there, bouncing on his toes, eyes boring into Yeosang’s entire existence like he just won the lottery.

He’s shaking, fingers fumbling with the spare tabs he has left, daring to fall to wet ground of the cubicle made by one too many spilled drinks as he places them all on his tongue. He didn’t need them thanks to his awakening, but who was he to waste them? Getting wasted with the person he loved until their faces were numb with pure ecstasy, both literally and figuratively, even if it wasn’t reciprocated… that’s a special moment isn’t it?

Yeosang hesitates for a second, wondering if he should go for it, but he can feel the little paper blots start to sizzle on tongue as if they’re branding his insides. It would be selfish he let himself have all the fun – so he lurches forward. Connecting them.

Seonghwa sees Yeosang move a motion similar to a video game lagging. He sees this little blonde head a few frames behind Yeosang himself and it take a moment to for the cogs to turn – lips were pressed against his own, melting their bodies together. Tongues explore mouths and Seonghwa feels what must be more drugs enter his body, pulling away as he swallows the paper to take more of Yeosang. His eyes are closed as he feels hands run up and down his legs, before exploring his chest. The door of cubicle vibrates against his back as he’s pushed against it, wetness of tongue sliding up and down his exposed collar.

“Yeosangie– ” It all his vocal chords can string together, to his dismay.

“Seonghwa, for once in your life, shut the fuck up,” Yeosang’s tone was creeping on aggressive.

He fades. Seonghwa fades as he sees all darkness within ooze out of him, and the freedom he feels withing the cages of his mind, body and soul surges throughout, leaving him with holographic skin – he sees it on Yeosang too. He can feel his third eye opening as he scans any crevice of skin the other has on show, noticing the colours bursting of his skin too. It was magical, seeing his love like this, lapping over his neck. He felt himself hardening at the touch, he really wanted Yeosang _so bad._ But not without telling him first, there would be no harm in that, surely, letting someone he’s seen feel so unlovable that he’s _loved?_

“Yeosangie, I need to tell you something, please,” Seonghwa pushes him off gently, voice raspy as he feels his mouth ready itself to run. He meets Yeosang in the eyes, eyes that are pleading something so silently. “I’m in love with you.”

He’s met with silence and eyebrows knitted together and Seonghwa’s vision almost blanks before he feels hands slip into his own, his heart bouncing within his chest as he relishes it.

“I’m in love with you too,” it’s barely a whisper from Yeosang’s mouth. Seonghwa is so in touch with the fact those words just fuelled a rocket that was ready for take off inside him. He thinks maybe if he wasn’t tripping balls and high as _shit,_ he would cry, but he can do that later. Instead, he takes the fuel, letting flowers blossom around him as the world suddenly becomes more vivid, and he’s acutely aware of himself and the feeling of Yeosang going in for a kiss once again. He takes the fuel, letting it blast off into smoke as he flips the other round, pushing him against the door of the cubicle like the position Seonghwa was in earlier, instantly tugging on Yeosang’s hair and rest his thigh between his legs, forcing them to spread.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby,” Seonghwa truly was taken aback at what he saw, Yeosang doe eyed, looking at him as if he’s just given him the world but not without a little bit of shock around the edges, “I want to make you feel so _so_ loved.” He moves his thigh, Yeosang finally understanding and slowly rutting against it. He grazes his fingertips over the other’s chest, sequins scratching them slightly as he leans in and marks Yeosang’s neck. He feels Yeosang grow harder and harder on his thigh, gasping and his biting threatens to pierce the skin – Seonghwa decides its best to lay off and he sees the mess he’s made, all dark red with some purple already forming. A declaration Yeosang is finally his.

Yeosang truly is in awe. Is this what Seonghwa is like? Or is it the high? Maybe he’s actually corrupting him, but that’s a thought for later. He feels teeth sink in his neck, and it’s a dream to feel. Though, his mind finally syncs up with his body, realsing he’s in the wrong position. He’s not the one who should be rutting against Seonghwa’s thigh, he wasn’t some needy slut – it felt euphoric but Yeosang needed to see Seonghwa beg on his knees, right in the middle of this club’s cubicle. That would be peak eurphoria, he knows Seonghwa wants that too, really. 

Seonghwa appears to have noticed the cogs turning in the other’s mind, they stood clear as day spinning above his head, gleaming as they caught the light and got to work, “don’t worry about a thing tonight, I just want you to feel good about yourself, angel,” it came as a low growl in Yeosang’s ear.

“I know exactly how you can do that,” Yeosang wraps his hand around Seonghwa’s throat, immediately chasing the dominance he was beginning to _crave_ , an itch forming under his skin as if bugs were crawling underneath him, “now be a good boy, get on your knees, and make me feel good.” He pushes down on Seonghwa’s collarbones for emphasis.

Seonghwa is indeed a good boy… Yeosang wonders how this can be since, well, he’s so innocent, almost untainted from what he’s seen, yet Seonghwa’s beautifully full lips are locked around his cock as his tongue wreaks havoc around the tip, making his eyes roll to the back of his head as his moans echo in his almost empty skull. In honesty, Yeosang thinks that if he didn’t realise his love for the man currently doing numbers on his cock, he would now. Yeosang watches with as much attention as he can – Seonghwa pushes further down, moaning unapologetically, allowing himself to drink those gorgeous vibrations of the moment. He giggles almost childishly at the thought of them getting thrown out with the amount of noise Seonghwa is making, though it’s not a worry, the club management know him and his antics by now.

He notes Seonghwa pulling out his own dick from his jeans, an angry red and thick in all its glory. Seonghwa tries his best to multi-task but appears to be hyper focused on Yeosang as he looks up and their gazes bolt together and suddenly it’s only them in the whole wide world, their surroundings fading to a stark black momentarily. Park Seonghwa is beautiful, really, and Yeosang is a fool to not have noticed before; watching those doe eyes with their signature sparkle look at him as if love was only made for Yeosang, pushing every emotional boundary he has in his mind. Though watching this angel on his knees before him, giving him the blowjob of his life as he tries to pump his own cock, a sweaty flushed mess as he drools all over himself, just rewires his brain entirely.

“God, you’re such a good boy, I didn’t know you could do that with your mouth…”

“I can do anything for you and with you,” Seonghwa’s voice is raspy by now, his throat at the limits Yeosang was willing to test, “especially when you’re so… hot.”.

 _Cute._ Yeosang could deal with the frills of Seonghwa later, now however, he just wanted more of him. To satisfy himself, he pushes Seonghwa further down his cock until he can feel his throat restricting and the need to gag contract around him. He thrusts harshly a few times as Seonghwa finally relaxes and takes the liberty to touch himself and Yeosang can’t takes his eyes off him like this – he watches Seonghwa desperately try to make himself come like this, eyes flinching from side to side as his pupils are the size of saucers, pathetically moaning the best he can. He can hardly believe this is the same guy he rooms with, the same roomie who nurses his come downs, keeps their room pristine, who has fancy soap powder for his laundry, and usually exclusively drinks low alcohol beer.

Seonghwa notices his eyes flicker around, fractals of Yeosang occasionally merging into one. How long have they been here now? Time was irrelevant, but it was so cherished. He was making Yeosang feel _amazing_ and his heart was beginning to contract at the thought, with Yeosang’s confession playing a symphony in his head. He never wanted to see Yeosang depressed beyond compare ever again.

The fractals start multiplying as he travels dimensions, and once again, colour comes to life and Yeosang melts into the prettiest of them all. But now, Seonghwa had learned to let go – he could be free for just a moment, and he wanted _more,_ being selfish in the most selfless of ways _._ He takes his hand off his own cock, breaking through Yeosang’s hold and pulling off to stand up in front of the other.

He takes both of them in his hand, stroking in a rushed hurry. But that’s not without sweeping in and gasping in to Yeosang’s mouth, tongues messily colliding in a fury of passion as they begin to taste colour in unison. He feels little fangs nibble at his lip, and he gives them all the leeway they require. Something punches him in the gut, and he’s sure Yeosang feels it too because he’s seeing stars and projectiles fly and fade into the distance, vision slowly going spotty before patches bounce back with neon lights as he and Yeosang vibrate vocally and physically with eachother in a crooked embrace. Their come mingles atop his hand, the colour fluorescent as it glows with the added ecstasy he feels with Yeosang.

He feels eyes on him, like spotlights on a stage, and it swallows him up in a way that’s blissfully _feeling,_ the same eyes that are attached to the limb now nudging his hand to his mouth, forcing him to lap it up like a kitten.

Their come is still warm and goopy, but despite Seonghwa’s own being in this lewd cocktail, it tastes of lust and so purely Yeosang – it’s purple in flavour and perfectly cherry in colour, his senses overlapping as his swirls his tongue around his hand, sure not to miss a single drop and for a second the fractals intensify as every tastebud ignites.

“Only whores eat come like that, you know,” Yeosang giggles oh so pleasantly as he continues to bore his eyes into Seonghwa.

Seonghwa just let the noise go in his head, nodding enthusiastically at Yeosang’s words hoping not to process them too much to save him getting hot and bothered yet again.

“Sangie, can we get some drinks and dance?” He could feel his throat slowly become rusted, but that didn’t stop the jitters he had zap around his cavity of a body – he was feeling just _great_ and bloated with energy.

“Of course,” Yeosang’s chest rumbles with infectious, hysterical laughter, and Seonghwa joins in because the noises coming out of the other’s mouth provoke yet another wave of emotion he can only describe as adoration, “I need a fucking cigarette.”

They sit in the smoking area, bouncing in their seats as they share a cigarette. Yeosang takes large pulls as if his life depends on it, while Seonghwa takes little puffs as the smoke dares to burn his lungs. No one talks, instead they communicate in the astral realm while their bodies sit there like machines. Just for a little bit, they’re both empty. They enjoy their nicotine rush, as if they needed it, and bask in whatever the fuck just happened.

Eventually they make it to the dance floor, swaying to the beat of their bodies as they began to sync amid the craziness of it all. Their arms and hips melt into one entity, the bass thundering around them as they both seem to be incapable of taking in air. Seonghwa finds it truly beautiful, the music, despite being modern, could easily be a harmony of a cherished symphony, finding each vocal, each synth beat to be tantalising. With Yeosang, it’s even more so. He wants to be so congealed to him forever. Music fills their minds and bodies, and without realising it, both their minds are internally chattering away about the same things; how much they adored one another despite barely coming to terms with it.

Love had never been so vivid, so colourful, so astounding to feel. Yeosang dances with this newfound passion, because really, he knows when he finally sobers up, he’s still going to feel as if he’s walking through Heaven – he has Seonghwa to hold his hand now.

Love has never been this loud and they’re not even making a sound.

Super silence in the quiet breaks down and everything becomes all so incredibly loud as they savour the electricity that zaps the mere millimetre gap between their bodies. They begin rolling with their high, their eyes the size of saucers and everything is just absolutely perfect how it is. They’re still moving languidly together, dancing like it’s the last thing they’ll do together, this time Seonghwa leaning down to fill the other with love in a sloppy kiss.

Their shared room is near blackout. Blinds _and_ curtains are drawn over, the dull morning sunshine peeping through the slight gaps, the clock reading just past midday. Clothes are strewn over the floor, tossed wherever there was space. Yeosang wakes up first, and he’s startled – he’s sharing a bed with Seonghwa, which has happened before but this time they’re knotted together, fingers intermingled so tenderly. He panics for just a split second as he pieces together the events of the night before, remembering his trip, his epiphanies, his emotions.

This morning, though, he not only actively tries to remember, but he pushes himself to feel.

His head almost explodes in its sober state – he’s _feeling_. He’s feeling and the world isn’t grey anymore. Past relationships left him with a hole in his heart, and he finds having Seonghwa by his side makes him whole again. Nonetheless, self-doubt threatens to consume him. Why did Seonghwa love him like he did? Was it pity? Was he seen as some fucked up project by Seonghwa, someone who he could claim he fixed?

A satisfied gluttural hum pierces his ears, “Yeosang, I can hear your thinking, you know,” Seonghwa rolled over, “I love you because I can see through to the real you, behind the pain.”

Yeosang laughs behind the covers questioning if he really was sober because, surely, Seonghwa couldn’t be real. He replies anyway, “I don’t think I can believe it.”.

Yet he does. He thinks to how Seonghwa has been so willing and caring, so purely loving, all this time. He won’t let the blackness wash over him anymore, tucking himself under the covers to protect himself from it – though on the tip on his tongue is addressing the likes of the night before, whether or not he made Seonghwa uncomfortable. The drugs.

So Yeosang rolls over to look at his new lover in the eye, squeezing his hand as he does so. “Seonghwa,” he exhales for emphasis, “I hope getting drugs in and coaxing for you to use didn’t… make you uncomfortable or anything,” he begins to stumble over his words, feeling more and more guilty as he explains himself, “I was gonna use anyway because it’s me but like, I hope I didn’t come over wrongly or anything, I just…”

Now it’s Seonghwa who’s laughing. It’s light and airy and full of sunshine. “Not at all, I’ve… never done anything like that, never even drank so much alcohol but it was nice. I liked it, because it was with you. I trust you; you know.”

He wasn’t lying – Seonghwa loved every second of it, even waking up feeling normal, which he wasn’t expecting whatsoever. It was an experience he wanted to live again, especially with Yeosang; he’s never felt like that before, how intense everything was, how could the world be so inviting and boundless? How could Yeosang become even more extraordinary than he already was? He started seeing life in a new light, one that wasn’t just gatekeeping himself to a stringent standard, to a routine of everyday life. Being in Yeosang’s presence, a high that intensified his senses, his thinking, his psyche, everything; blew his mind to bits and he _loved_ it. It was a perfect duo that worked in harmony – he loved Yeosang to the ends of the Earth, and he wanted to explore the different dimensions with him, whether that be high or sober.

Seonghwa sighed contently as he observed his own train of thought easily and comfortably go from his first-time high to Yeosang. He was truly enthralled. 

Naturally, he ran his fingertips over Yeosang’s bare chest, “do you have anything on you right now?”.

Yeosang was shocked, eyes visibly widening and his lips parting in a small gasp. In 24 hours, there was a complete turnaround to the man that he lay beside, and though he was _living_ for the growth, he was once again unsure if he should be somewhat _proud_ at the corruption he had instilled – Seonghwa had once frowned upon his use of drugs, yet here they were.

He rolls over to open his nightstand, rummaging through the drawer before pulling out a baggie of white powder and another of brown rocks, before putting the rocks back – he didn’t want Seonghwa to deal with the demons of that one. “You sure about this?” Seonghwa just gawps back at Yeosang as he continues painting patterns on his chest, clocking the obvious response.

Yeosang climbs out of bed, grabbing a book, a $10 bill and his bank card (they were the closest and most fitting items he could find). He sits cross legged on the bed, Seonghwa quickly follows suit, and cuts a few lines, diving down with ease and snorting a line of coke. He wiggles his nose slightly as he comes up, muttering a little “oh god” as if he had just eaten a satisfying full-cooked breakfast that just hit _the_ spot.

Seonghwa ends up fumbling with the bank note because he’s just a _little_ nervous about doing coke – somewhere his internal voice is telling him to dodge because he doesn’t want to end up a junkie, but he’s already done one drug, what’s the harm in trying them all at least once? He tries his best to mimic Yeosang’s actions, however unsuccessfully gliding and snorting all at once, and when he does finish the line, he grits his teeth harshly daring not to sneeze.

They do three more lines each, Seonghwa’s technique getting better with each one and _then_ Yeosang does feel a sense of pride. After his final line, Seonghwa comes up a flushed mess with a bloody nose and Yeosang stirs in his wake as an overwhelming warmth growing in his chest.

“Seonghwa, I fucking love you.”

Seonghwa giggles childishly, “I love you too, Yeosangie.”

It kicks in within a few minutes, Seonghwa reels as his blood defies gravity as it floats to his head, lips going numb as he presses them delicately against his lover's, replays of the pounding drum and bass music from the night before ringing in his ears.

Love has never been so loud.

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading !! feedback is always appreciated <3
> 
> if u wanna slip into my dms about corrupted seonghwa here's my twt: [@gothwooyoung](https://twitter.com/gothwooyoung)
> 
> ik i say this for like every fic i write but i am genuinely in love with this au so maybe i'll revisit it with little slice of life drabbles who knows :3 honestly there is so much depth to this au in my brain this is basically the tip of the iceberg


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